


Poems

by Aredriseth



Category: The Founder of Diabolism, The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation, 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù
Genre: AU, M/M, Pre-Slash, poet!Wei Wuxian|Wei Ying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-18 04:37:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14845845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aredriseth/pseuds/Aredriseth
Summary: In which Wei Wuxian is a poet and strange things happen.





	Poems

Wei Wuxian was a famous poet, known and revered for his texts that contained cryptic spells and messages and had beutiful depictions of gruesome acts and scenes. It took a high level of language mastery to be able to pull it off and years of experience to make it appealing to the masses.

It was unique because only few could do it right and even less of those who could embed their song with magic. Powerful magic able to cause mass destruction and yet simple enough to be understood and used by average cultivators in need. One had to be a genius to be able to create something like that. All of that made it only harder for Wei to write his texts, his inspiration limited. Obstructed. He had to ability, but he had no ideas he could turn into a poem aka cryptic spell. 

He was sitting outside of a little inn, already deep in the night and frustrated to all hell and back. Being outside at such a hour was asking for danger, but at least if something occured he might get an inspiration to put something to paper, for a change. He knew everything was wrong when he was the one searching for trouble instead of causing it himself. Wei was done for the night, given up after just two rows of text, acknowledging this writing sessions as yet another failure. He closed his book and went inside to rest as every person in their right mind did.

A new case came up, a serious of mysteries to uncover and he hadn't thought much about his writing, despite it being his primary source of income. He could live a very comfortable life as a cultivator as he was one of the most prominent ones, but his poems were the ones that brought luxury to his life. It took a couple of days and a string of other eerie stories untill he had another writing session which wasn't as much of a failure as his previous ones were. It resembled more a Japanese Haiku that it did cultivation poetic, but he had the beginnings of a new spell down. This one was going to give the user speed and agility or, better yet, their opponents would be cursed with a lack of those two characteristics. He was unsure as to where he wanted the spell to go as of now, or where it would end up when he was done, but it was promising. Not when he considered how smoothly he wrote 4 months ago, bit brilliantly when he considered how he had it for the last month. It was the worst of all.

A few days later, when he open the book once again, he noticed something rather strange. There were now several rows continuing his spell, making it go in a completely different direction than what he had planned. It contained minor mistakes and stylistically there was a lot to be desired, but it was nontheless good. He could fix the issues and improve the phrasing, maybe throw in a new motive or two. He could work with it, definitely. 

But, obviously, he wasn't the one who wrote it. The lettering was completely different that that of his own, albeit pretty, and the language used reminded him of that popular four centuries ago, indicating that the one who wrote it must have had a good education. Considering that he or she broke into his home without Wei taking notice of them. It also meant trouble, because Wei kept several potent spells only for his personal use. He had to keep an eye of his surroundings.

In the meantime, it was still his writing sessions which he used to adapt the strange writing and continue with his own; he wasn't quite done with the spell, bit the stranger's contribution brought him much closer to the goal. 

The next morning, he rummaged through his stuff, making sure that nothing has been messed with, before he opened his book. This time, the same handwriting appeared, effectively bringing his spell to the end. Whoever it was that wrote in it was skilled, albeit not refined in his writing. This was quite something. The mistakes were again minor and the style outdated, but a regular cultivator wasn't able to do what this one did, let alone someone that was not a cultivator. Who on Earth was it? The town he was staying at was rather small and while it had some cultivators staying in it, only Wei Wuxian had enough power and knowledge to use something so complicated. Maybe the one who wrote wasn't human? It would explain how he couldn't sense anyone physically barging in his room and going through his stuff, bit even then he would notice the spiritual power of a ghost or a god/goddess or even a wandering soul. It didn't make sense.

It was his time to move. He was done with his missions here and he's heard of strange occurrences a few towns over and being in such a proximity, it would be a pity not to go and see fit himself. So he did. Preparing to say goodbye to whatever was causing his blanket pages to fill up. He wanted to go explore about it too, but he overstayed his welcome in the town a little bit. Just slightly.

Despite changing towns, the person continued responding to his half finished poems, confirming his suspicions that the one who did it didn't have a physical form. He didn't know what it was or what intentions the person/it had, but it was either that or someone was following him. 

Or, it might be a part of a spell too. He's s heard rumors about spells that were able to transfer someone's mind to another place, unlike a transportation spell which transfered both body and mind, but he never heard of a spell that could do a thing as this one did. Whoever it was, it must have been a better cultivator to make such a spell than even Wei Wuxian himself. 

He didn't know what was going on, but at least the person/it responded with his poems, accurately at that which meant that he/she/it had to carefully examine whatever he wrote. The train of thought went that instead of a poem including spells, he should write a poem, a while poem, asking about the person who constantly replied to him. Hopefully, that would work. 

The next morning nothing was there. Not even a word, the book having remained untouched even be the spirit thing or whatever it was. It failed. 

However, he noticed that the person still replied to all of his poems containing spells. What would cause someone like that to only do that? Most of souls/spirits/ghosts etc. had a story to convey which they wanted people to know. They might want reassurance, revenge and other things, but a soul/… not wanting to speak about himself/herself/itself or something's that happened to them or their loved ones was alarming. He ever heard of such a thing. 

The mystery gripped him.

Time passed and Wei continued exchanging messages with his, well, something. The more they knew each other, although that really couldn't be said without a heavy dose of deceit, the more Wei git comfortable around him/her/it. Whatever it was, it had no malicious intentions, especially not towards Wei Wuxian himself. Which was odd, considering how many enemies he had made in the course of his life. It wasn't a very long life either, he was only 25! Hardly a middle aged man.

Wei Wuxian being his shameless self would often do or say things that would provide his partner. He didn't know how to refer to him. Eventually, he did pry information out of him. He was a guy, meaning that he either was human or had been a human once upon time. The man described himself as reasonably young, which Wei didn't know how to interpret as there were people in their fifties that still thought they were in the prime of their lives and equally so a 13 year old night describe the self as reasonably young. Of course, he doubted it could be anyone under 20 knowing to write such spells and doing then correctly might mean that the person was in their late twenties or thirties. Reasonably young indeed, but not quite accurate.

The person was also apart from smart, educated and powerful also witty and romantic? If Wei made an innuendo or a proposition, even if it was humorous, he would always respond in a similar manner. Cultured, but he didn't shy away from being intimate with a man or of romantic relationship with a fellow male. He was interesting. Wei liked him.

Flicking through the book, reminiscent about the old days where they first began exchanging texts, until he found the poem where he asked about his current writing partner. Back then it had no response, but now? Now there was a lengthy one, yet not going into detail who he was. 

Lan WangJi. 

That was the one who first started the whole path of cultivational poems! No wonder why it reminded him so much of the old writing style! It was! The mistakes he made were evidence of how he hadn't yet perfected the path, being only the person that began it and not having experienced and learned about generations of powerful cultivators that devoted their lives in perfecting what he started.

The reason why they were able to communicate?

Once upon a time, Lan WangJi had a male lover. Wei Wuxian was his modern day reincarnation. Lan WangJi himself wasn't reincarnated, but rather his soul was given a body which was why he remembered everything. That happened shortly before they started replying to each other.

He wanted to meet him.

**Author's Note:**

> I planned this to be just over 500 words, but it didn't go as planned.
> 
> (And I also feel like I'm spamming this fandom)


End file.
